Fall for You
by neverintendedtoexist
Summary: Post Reichenbach. Fluff. This is basically what I would love to happen when Sherlock comes back.It also expresses many views of the fandom on what Sherlock should do upon his return...
1. Waiting

**_AN:First ever fanfiction. I hope you like it!_**

**_Disclaimer: Not mine_**

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It had been six months since Moriarty had fooled society into thinking Sherlock was a fake. Normal people were so stupid, they'd believe anything they read. How boring it must be to think like that. Not make your own deductions. Six months since Sherlock had been forced to hurt the only three people in the world that liked him.

Sherlock kept moving, he knew that now, because of his appearances in the papers and those who read John's blog, people would recognise him even without that blasted deerstalker. John. He hadn't updated his blog at all (which worried Sherlock, the blog had been suggested by John's therapist to help with his PTSD , so the lack of updates may mean a regression in his recovery )apart from the posting of a news item, with which he had expressed that he would never believe Sherlock was a fake. So that meant that John hadn't believed anything he had said in the phone call, so John was actually (as Sherlock had hoped) a lot more intelligent than the rest of them. And...and he had called Sherlock his best friend. He didn't know what to think of this. Sherlock had never had a friend before, never mind a best friend.

His feelings for John confused him, he felt very different when he thought of John that when he thought about Mrs Hudson. But she was his housekeeper _landlady, _he corrected, she hated being referred to as their housekeeper, despite the fact that she cleaned the apartment and on occasion would cook for them. She was more like a mother to him, not exactly a friend. Sherlock may even say that he loved her; Mrs Hudson was a lot more caring than his own mother, who had never paid attention to him when he was younger. As children, he and Mycroft had always been bundled off to some nanny, their mother wasn't really the maternal type. Mrs Hudson was fantastic, she was always there is Sherlock needed her, he just wished that she'd let him analyse her 'gentleman callers' more often to stop her getting hurt.

Then his relationship with Lestrade was again very different to those he had John and Mrs Hudson. Lestrade was part of Scotland Yard (which is mainly made up of complete simpletons), but he actually treated Sherlock with some respect. He didn't talk too much or pretend he was intelligent, like Anderson, but he accepted that he needed Sherlock, plus he always made sure that Sherlock would get what he needed at a crime scene. He hated to admit it, but Lestrade was actually smart, at least by normal standards, and that was the main reason Sherlock chose to work with him. Sherlock could call him a friend, maybe, or at least he would care if Lestrade was ever hurt and felt the need to protect him. Which is what having a friend must mean. Though that urge was not as strong as the one that made him want to protect John. _That must be the difference between a friend and a best friend, _he thought_. _

Since Sherlock's 'death' John had visited his gravesite every day. Sherlock had not expected this, yes of course John would visit the grave. -but Sherlock had predicted he'd come maybe once twice a week, and then gradually decrease these trips until he only came on special occasions, or when he felt he an extra bout of grief, though he would never understand why John would care even that much- he had no reason to like Sherlock. Then there was the girl. John had never mentioned her, and he always remembered what John said. He never deleted the conversations he had with John: they were important. Sherlock had never seen her either, but he knew John had found someone new.

Lately he had detected the subtle changes in John's body language that indicated he was thinking of some girl, lusting after her, though Sherlock could tell by the fact the he had never brought her home and the way John's eyes glazed over when there was a scene involving romantic partners on television, that this girl was much more important. That she may even be the one that John would marry. Sherlock didn't know what he thought about John ever getting married, it would mean less time with his friend. In fact he had never liked it when John has girlfriends, they took up a lot of John's time and were completely useless. They meant John was gone even overnight sometimes, and Sherlock missed him. Or at least he missed having someone to do things for him. He wasn't entirely sure which. The thought unsettled him, he always knew what was going on. Though his relationship with John often made him feel like this, he didn't know how to act around John, what was okay. He had no idea how to treat his friend, he had never had any practice at it, _and shouldn't it have come easily? Everyone else knew how to behave. _He was a lot smarter than them too.

'Friend' the word still seemed completely foreign to him. At school Sherlock had always been the loner, the kid that everyone picked on the 'boffin', the 'loser', the 'freak'. He took all this torment for many years, then he figured out the perfect way to get to the bullies; deduce them. After that they stayed away. But still no one talked to Sherlock, he had always been left completely alone. That is, until he met his blogger.

However, if John had been in love with this new girl, surely she would have been to the grave with him? Or he would have left her in the car? No, John always walked. The worst thing was, John was back to walking with his cane. His limp was psychosomatic, which meant that John had to be under a lot of stress, had gone back to the PTSD firm after his discharge. Sherlock couldn't believe that him leaving -'dying'-could ever have had such an effect on John. If it had been the other way around (though Sherlock was much too intelligent not to have figured everything out, this was hypothetical), and Sherlock had believed John to be dead, Sherlock was sure he wouldn't be able to go on. He would have been overcome with grief, and may have even taken very drastic actions. _Wow_, he thought, _it really is a deep emotional tie one had with a best friend._ So he could understand John's regression. Thought he would never know why John had chosen him for a friend. Of course he was brilliant, and everyone admired his intellect. But even Mrs Hudson, who would never try to offend him, had admitted he could be a complete '_arse' _at times. Who would want spend time with him at all, he stopped speaking for days on end and the way he played the violin weren't exactly desirable qualities.

He missed the violin, and the quiet of 221B. Sometimes, he visited Molly. She was the only one who he had told he had only faked everything; she had even helped him with something. Her flat was very over-crowded with knick-knacks and cats though, not exactly a quite haven. Also she just kept _talking. _So getting rid of Moriaty's associates was taking a lot longer than he had planned.


	2. Reunion

Sherlock walked slowly to the graveyard, John usually came at around three- o-clock. Sherlock would arrive at eleven-ish, just to make sure he wouldn't miss John. While he waited, this time behind a large monument(which he thought was very tacky) he went to his mind palace. The graveyard was lovely and quite. Unfortunately, he didn't have nicotine patches and smoking would attract attention, plus- even though he'd never know- he wouldn't want to disappoint John.

His heart sped up when he saw John limp in the entrance to the graveyard, putting a lot of weight on his cane. Immediately, Sherlock could tell that there was something different about John. Today he didn't just stand at the grave and stare, or talk. No, this time he did something much worse. Something that made almost made Sherlock tear up. But Sherlock didn't have real emotions- of course he didn't. He wasn't like normal people, he was different-special. John had fallen to his knees and was sobbing. Not the few tears he had shed the first time he came to the grave site but huge body-racking sobs. Sherlock's feet started to move of their own accord racing out to John. But he stopped. Fortunately John hadn't seen him.

He couldn't stay still. He couldn't watch this. What had he done? _I HAD TO. John had to believe I was dead. There is no way-_. His thoughts were interrupted. John had said something. Something he never thought he'd hear. Something even he would have never imagined John saying.

"I love you, Sherlock Holmes."

That's when he realised, that's exactly what he had wanted, since the moment they'd met.

This time Sherlock couldn't stay still. He couldn't stop himself running out, running to John. He was there in seconds, and John was encased in his arms. John just looked at him in disbelief, then suddenly anger washed over his face. _Whack. _John had pulled away and in the same movement lashed out and hit him.

Sherlock stepped back, touching the cut on his cheek, confused. He stepped back towards John, only to be met with a hat that knocked him to the floor. He got up very slowly and stood at arm's length from John, and held his hands up. He didn't speak, he should have known that John would have reacted this way. Normal people cannot control their emotions. Normal people have emotions, though Sherlock was starting to learn more about these, due to current circumstances.

John was so angry he could barely speak . "Sher-Sherlock" he began pacing "How did you-how are you-I checked-you, you didn't have a pulse Sherlock."

"I explained that to you" Sherlock stayed very calm, though he was longing to feel John's embrace again.

"You-you- you explained that? How could you have explained-if you'd have explained I would have known you weren't dead"_ His v_oice was trembling. At this point he broke down and fell forward into Sherlock, clutching at his coat. Sherlock knew he wanted John to stay there. He wanted John to be his.

"Shhh, shhh John. Don't- I'm sorry John" Sherlock couldn't say it. He usually wouldn't care about hurting someone's feelings, but for some reason- this was something that he couldn't understand- he didn't want to hurt John in any way. Ever. He couldn't admit that he had made John cry, he couldn't bear being the cause of John's pain.

John lifted his head from Sherlock's chest. "You're sorry? His voice rose at the end of the question. You're sorry? I thought you were dead, you have no idea how I felt. How could you do that to me Sherlock. I knew you weren't a fake, you could have explained. Don't you trust me?

"Of course I trust you John. You needed to believe that I was dead, or-" He stopped, he couldn't tell John this. For goodness sake he was endangering John's life right now; one of Moriarty's men could be watching everything. But according to Sherlock's latest findings there was only one left in the country. He had eliminated three only this morning, caught them all in a very delicate web of Moriarty's lies. By isolating each of them and using their own emotional weaknesses against them he go the information he needed, then anonymously sent the confessions of 2 murders, 43 cases of grievous bodily harm and 12 burglaries to Scotland Yard. Meaning there was only one left, and she was supposedly in Newcastle right now...but still, if he was going to talk to John they needed to go somewhere more private.

And of course, Moriarty himself was still out there.

In the split second Sherlock took to think of this, John had buried his head in Sherlock's chest again he was now muttering something unintelligible. The only words he could catch were the obscenities, he grabbed John's arm and tried to move him, but John was rooted to the spot.

"John, we need to move. We can't be out in the open like this. I can't be here. If they-" He kept looking wildly from side to side, as if in fear his other senses would betray him. If anyone was within two hundred metres of them , even hiding or in the church, he would have heard, or noticed them at least. He was on high alert the urge to protect John at whatever cost was bewildering-overwhelming he couldn't understand it. He knew John could look after himself (he was a solider after all) but Sherlock couldn't help the way he wanted to keep hold of him, never let him out of his sight again. He hated himself for endanger John's life again though somewhere deep down, he knew that they wouldn't be caught. At least not yet. Maybe…maybe this was love. It was nothing like in the books, it was much more intense. A need. He yanked on John's arm again.

"John…..John. We need to move."

This time, as he looked up John stepped back a little, though still in Sherlock's arms.

"Who are they' Sherlock?" Wait. is someone after you? Is that why you"

John swallowed Sherlock knew that it pained him to say these next words, he was about to stop him, of course he knew what John was about to say, but he didn't say it in time. With John in his arms, for some reason his reactions were a lot slower than usual.

"Is that why you-"he looked down at the ground, at the place where Sherlock's dead body was supposed to be- "faked your own death?" His voice rose several octaves at the end of the sentence.

"John, I've told you. We can't do this here."

"I'm not moving until you explain how you did this. Why you did this to me- I mean to us. Mrs Hudson's distraught."

"Fine. John if we don't move now, you could be shot within seconds.


	3. Stupid

_Stupid, stupid stupid. _He should have known that John wouldn't move just because of the threat of imminent death. He was a solider, for Christ's sake. _Why hadn't he realised John would react like this? _His deductions were off, for some reason. He couldn't help but relate it to the fact that John was currently pressed up against him.

"Explain. Now." It was an order, not a request.

"This would be much easier if we went inside the church. Come now, John." He dragged himself from John's clutches and began to walk towards the silent, empty church. If he had time, Sherlock would have explained to John exactly why this building was useless- the proof (at least for him) that God didn't exist. But he didn't have time. He needed to get John moving. He looked at John again, and added:

"Please?"

That did it. Normal people responded so well to manners and pleading, especially from him. He tended not to say 'please' or 'thank you' much. It only really slowed him down, but had found that with certain people those little words would encourage them to do what he wanted. If he had his way no one would ever need to have manners.

John started to move towards the church; already he was putting less weight on his cane. Sherlock tried to usher him forward, to make him go faster. But John was determined to go at his own stubborn snail's pace. When they got there, as Sherlock had thought (well, known actually but others would say he had just predicted it), it was totally empty. But they would have to be quite if they didn't want the vicar to them from the parish. He couldn't afford that, he had to make sure that they weren't interrupted, so he locked the door behind them with a key that he had acquired a while ago. It was also an extra precautionary measure to make sure that if anyone had seen them, then they wouldn't be able to follow.

"How do I even know you're you? You could be an imposter in a mask… the way that little girl screamed….obviously someone that looks like you is working with Moriarty." John demanded.

"Dull. What a boring conclusion. I'm obviously me and the real explanation to how I'm still here is far more exciting" He pulled John over to pew in the very back of the church and sat down. "Though I did already explain it to you"

"What? Why do you keep saying that? If I knew you weren't dead I wouldn't have….and I probably wouldn't have ever realised that-" he stopped abruptly and looked embarrassed. "You didn't explain **anything**"

"Of course I did. Have you forgotten what I said w_hen I called you from the rooftop?" _At those words, John's face fell- he was again consumed with the grief that Sherlock had seen earlier at the gravesite, even though now it had been completely illogical. _John should just delete that feeling, completely,_ he thought_. _Before remembering that John didn't do that, it was only him.

The thing was, he had started to think of John as his equal rather than just some other stupid being that was there aid him in an investigation ( John had always been such a lot more than that to him, he realised that now).

"'It's just a trick John. Just a magic trick' I told you that what I was about to do wasn't real" He emphasised the last word, hoping John would be able to do understand without him needing to explain, that would take far too long.

"No. No Sherlock I didn't get that. No one would have understood that. We don't all have as brilliant as minds as you do." He sighed at the end, exasperated. John was still staring at Sherlock with such an intensity that he it was as if he was afraid that if he even blinked, Sherlock would disappear. Which, of course would be a perfectly justifiable sentiment. "Now. For Goodness sakes, explain"

Sherlock sighed and plummeted into the long, detailed and by all accounts baffling tale of he had survived a 100ft fall from the roof of St Bart's, convinced pathologists (though that was more to do with Molly than anything) and the government that he was dead.

"Brilliant. Bloody brilliant. You're amazing, a complete prick," He looked up and chuckled slightly at Sherlock "but amazing. You know I don't think I'll be able to forgive you for doing this" He looked downcast, the grief still evident on his face.

"I know John. I'm sorry, really. I didn't realise that anyone even care this much about me, I would have told you sooner if I knew this was how it made you feel. If I'd known that you-" The look on John's face made him stop, he had gone bright red and his face was contorted into an expression somewhere between pain, embarrassment, confusion and - the one that made Sherlock want to get hold of John right now and never let go- longing.

"John- what you said, before I came over-did you mean it?" For some reason he couldn't bring himself to say the words. He didn't know if he could say them. What if he hadn't heard John properly (though even the idea of that seemed totally absurd)? He needed confirmation. He craved that, he wanted to hear John say it again- though he knew from the way John looked at him now that the words at the grave earlier had been true.

"Yes. It-it's true. Sherlock I love you. I have for- well I don't even know when it happen. I don't get it I thought I was straight. And of course there is no way that you would ever feel the same way" He hadn't looked at Sherlock since he had started speaking. He was studying an ugly-looking mural on the wall of the church (Ugh. Why did people let children paint?).

"But John I do. I- I love you John Watson_" _And it was true, he had loved John since almost the moment they met. Since he had realised that John was different, that he actually was intelligent on some level , that John could actually understand him (well on a certain level) almost no one else could do that. John was much more than his best friend. But he had never understood that before, as he hadn't known the difference between a best friend and- well he supposed that now they would be- boyfriend. For him, this was something new and he didn't understand. He hated it. He knew everything about everything, well the important things, he couldn't stand the thought of not knowing. It was like he was half blind, he didn't know how to handle the situation or what he was supposed to think of it. He wasn't even sure what John was thinking. What was happening to him? It was like he was- ugh- _normal. _Stupid_. _

Wait. Was this an emotional response? Usually he wouldn't care, maybe not even notice if someone had had a different reaction- an emotional one- to the way he had wanted them to react. He could handle it. But when it involved John he would often feel slightly off, as if there was a piece of translucent glass between them, hindering his deductions.

"Re-Really? But why-how could you like me? You're brilliant and you're beautiful. Any woman, or man , would have you if they could. And I'. I'm ordinary" John looked hopeful, his eyes were glistening with emotion. He seemed to have accepted the fact that he wasn't what he thought what he thought he was his entire life. He only seemed to care about Sherlock now, not what anyone would think when they found out.

"John, you're anything but ordinary. You have a fantastic mind, you're not the same as the rest, never think that. You're charming, you're strong. You-" He could have gone on, but something had stopped him mid- this had happened in any other circumstance he would have just gone on, regardless.

John's lips were on his, Sherlock was startled by this development he wasn't quite sure how to react, he fell into the kiss. John's lips were surprisingly hard against his own, they were tender and sweet. His body reacted strangely to this, it was as if an electric current had been passed through his body and he wanted more. He needed this, he'd never felt anything like this was before. It was better than caffeine, hell it was better than nicotine or in fact any other addictive substances.

He pulled away with great difficulty; fortunately he was better at controlling these sorts of impulses than John who seemed to have completely forgotten where they were, judging by the state of him.

"John. We need to move, someone may know where I've been. I can't put you in danger" Though he knew that it was exactly what he had been doing at that exact moment.

"I know of a little café where we can talk, and then I have somewhere else to go"

John blanched "You're going to leave me again?"

"I promise it'll only be for a few hours. There are a few arrangements I need to make"

"No. I'll go with you"

He looked at John in a way that showed he was serious about his plan to go alone, but also slightly teasingly.

"And there's nothing I can do to change your mind?" He raised his eyebrows.

John looked slightly taken aback. As if he didn't exactly know how to react. If Sherlock was actually hinting at…..or whether it was just another of his manipulatory tactics. It was probably both.

"No, no. I'm coming"

Sherlock sighed. "You stubborn little man". They both giggled at this joke, even though it wasn't really that funny. It was the relief. The fact that they finally had each other.


	4. Talking

They walked quickly around the backstreets of London. Sherlock knew the exact route through those places which would the most deserted places at this time of day, and exactly as he had predicted, they didn't encounter a living soul. Fortunately, this meant that after five minutes of walking John had taken hold of his hand. His grip was like iron, his fingers curling around Sherlock's own with such ferocity that he felt sure it would cut off his circulation. But Sherlock didn't care what damage it was doing to him, he wanted to make sure that he could hold onto John no matter the cost.

The café was small, and stank of grease and oil from the deep-fat fryer. But the owner was a friend of Sherlock's and the greasy spoon was almost always deserted.

"Do you want something to eat John?"

"Erm..yes, I'll get it. You won't be eating, right?"

"No, I had something at Molly's-yesterday I think. But I'm getting this. The owner owes me a favour"

"Why?"

"I proved that his wife wasn't a drug dealer and that he wasn't a pimp"

"Ooooof course you did." He elongated the 'o' sound showing his surprise, but also the opposing predictability of Sherlock's actions "Go up and order me 4 slices of toast and jam?"

"Ah, your affixation with strawberry jam. Four slices? You must be hungry"

"Well….crying does that to you" he whispered, blushing slightly.

Sherlock looked at him seriously "John, I-I can't apologise enough. I know you'll never be able to let this go. That you'll never be able to fully trust me, or even let me out of your sight. But I can't bear to see you in pain. I promise I'll never hurt you again" Instead of waiting for a response, he walked away to the counter to get John's food. There was no point he knew exactly what John would have said anyway-"Yes, you're right. You're always right Sherlock, and just-just be more careful and TELL me what you're planning". Okay, maybe he had embellished a little on the 'you're always right part'; but that's what John would have said, if not in fear of being held to those words later. He was sure if it.

Sherlock had decided to order a cup of tea each to and added extra sugar to John's , for the shock (well it helped would release endorphins into the bloodstream and would help him 'come down' after the adrenaline rush), when John tasted it he made a face but drank it anyway.

When the toast came it was on a very light bluey- green plate, almost the exact colour of Sherlock's eyes today ,for some unknown reason they tended to change. John had devoured the first slice in a matter of seconds. Sherlock sat and waited, surprisingly patient.

John swallowed his mouthful, licking the strawberry jam off his lips in a manner that made Sherlock's stomach jolt. This is new, he thought, was this attraction to John? He had never really been attracted to anyone before, had never had those desires of which he could remember.

"Sherlock, I know this is probably a very new feeling to you, but when did you know-"

"That I loved you? Well, I think it must have been since we first met. But for a while, I was in denial. I decided that I would never let myself give into it. Until now, that is"

"But then why did you do it…why did you leave me like that? How could you?" John was again close to tears, he seemed to be a lot more emotional of late.

Sherlock sighed heavily; when he had explained everything to John he had edited the story a little, saying that Moriaty had forced him, at gunpoint, to jump. He had actually been a little surprised when John believed that, he usually wasn't that gullible. But it was better that he had believed that.

"I may have modified the story of what happened on the roof a little…."

"Sherlock!" John almost shouted, exasperated. He took a deep breath then said "Tell me. "

So he explained about the positioned snipers, ready to shoot if he hadn't jumped.

"You did that…you gave up everything to protect me?"

"You would have been killed!"

Both of them had ignored the fact, at least for that moment, that Sherlock had done it to save Lestrade and Mrs Hudson too.

"I just. I would have never expected you to do that, Sherlock. You didn't need to, I can look after myself"

"There was no way that you could have evaded that."

"Well, maybe not. It's just that…well, Sherlock you never seem to care for anyone –apart from perhaps Mrs Hudson. And you don't seem to have feelings like a normal person"

"The truth is John" He started at John, who had now stopped eating entirely and was looking at him in disbelief. Though he often looked at Sherlock that way "I never really thought I had 'feelings'. But when I met you that all changed. Of course I cared for Mrs Hudson, but I never felt truly close to her. She was just another person there to help me"

John started to say something but realised that Sherlock hadn't finished. He had paused, but not stopped and that was very unlike Sherlock.

"When we met, that started to change. I realised that there were people that I did care for. Especially you, John"

John's face had turned a deep scarlet; it was so easy to make him blush. And Sherlock found that the deeper the blush was, the more he enjoyed making John look like that.

"What do we do now then?"

"Nothing much for a while. I still need to get to Tolviska. One of Moriarty's men" he added when he saw that John was looking confused "But he's not in the country right now, and I need to wait for him to come back until I can do anything, unfortunately"

"What about the rest?"

"I have eliminated them all. What with the internet, I have been able to complete this task very quickly, as well as my obvious superior intellect"

"Yeah Sherlock, I see you're still full of yourself. Not that I mind, I like that you're ….confident" He had changed the last part of the sentence when Sherlock had looked offended.

Sherlock wouldn't usually be hurt by anything like that. Actually, he had put up a wall against those comments a long time ago. But coming from John who was always so full of praise, his cheerleader, it stung. But John then had made it all better. John could always cheer him up, make him feel better. Though he had never said it before, whenever he was bored due to the fact that he didn't have a case it would be John that stopped him from tuning to cigarettes (or anything else for that matter).

They spoke about trivial things for a while, apparently Mrs Hudson had dumped her last beau – as she called him- after she had found out he had a previous history of exploiting the women he was with. Sherlock had tried to tell her as much but she had refused to listen, telling him not to be silly. She was so happy in that little world of hers.

They left, without any aim as to where they would go now.

As he got up and walked towards the door Sherlock saw that, just as when they had had that first meal at Angelo's, John had left his cane by the table.


	5. Date

_**AN: I decided (after a comment made) that it would be better, less confusing, if the dialogue wan't in italics. It was a mistake. Sorry for any problems. Thank you to anyone who has reviewed, favourited or added this to their alerts. :)**_

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Thinking back to that 'date' at Angelo's Sherlock thought of how downcast John had seemed when he had said he was 'married to his work' and truthfully, he was. It seemed that John may just be a distraction to him and he wouldn't want that to happen, his work was so important- he was needed. Now he knew that he would easily have time for both. The comment he made at the restaurant was really only him convincing himself that he couldn't have John and still be the world's only consulting detective.

He could easily fit all of his usual deductions into his brain and have room for John- as long as he didn't look at him too much. During an investigation of a crime scene John would still be able to accompany him and Sherlock would be still be able to perform to the same standard. Perhaps even better as having John there to talk to, to impress, had always helped him find the criminal a lot faster.

Now, they were walking towards an abandoned park (the children were all in school at this point) and moving towards the thick woodland area at the other side. John still didn't seem to have noticed that he didn't have his cane. There was no way that Sherlock was going to mention it for fear of setting him back.

Abruptly, Sherlock grabbed John's hand again. He liked walking like this, it was comfortable and easy. It showed the world that John was his, and he was John's.

Although he had expected John to pull away at first, then settle into it he couldn't hep giving into his desires. John had always declared that he 'wasn't gay' so Sherlock had thought that John would have wanted to hide any affection that they shared away.

"John-why is that you don't mind this" He held their joined hands up in the air ",that you wouldn't care if anyone saw us. Apart from those that intend to harm us, of course"

"Because for one thing, if I let you go I'm scared that you'll leave, or that this would have all been some wonderful dream_"_ He stopped, somewhere deep in thought.

"And?" Sherlock demanded- he couldn't bear waiting. Ever.

"In the last six months, I have realised the way I feel and it's taken me that long to be totally okay with it. To not care that I am in fact Bisexual. I think I fell in love you a few weeks before you….left. But it took me a very long time to admit those feeling to myself"

"I knew that you we're in love with someone back then." His eyes lit up the way they did when Lestrade called him about another murder "But never, even with my brain" John rolled his eyes, Sherlock could never resist talking himself up "would I have guessed that it was I that was the object of your affection"

John laughed a surprised, quiet little laugh that made Sherlock feel warm inside. _Is there something wrong with me, why is my temperature rising?-oh_, he had been worried for a second before he realised that it was John who had made him feel like that. It had been John, whose hand had now broken free of Sherlock's grasp and was currently entwined around his waist, who had made his pulse quicken, not an invasion of microbes into his body.

This contact, from John, he liked, if not loved. It made him want _more_. Usually if anyone apart from Mrs Hudson had placed a hand on him he would have flinched away. Any human contact would really unnerve him and put him off of his work it was just…uncomfortable. It made him shudder just thinking about it. Though being this close to John wasn't doing much for his concentration.

At his movement John had turned and pulled away slightly so that he was now facing Sherlock, leaving his hand resting on Sherlock's skinny hip.

"What's wrong? Do you want me to…"He moved his hand from Sherlock's him and put it in his pocket, pouting a little.

"No,no John" He reached for John's hand and pulled his arm back around his waist "I _like_ it"

"You really haven't done this before have you?" John was serious, but his eyes didn't portray the same pity that others did if they ever breached this subject, though Sherlock always just ignored any comments of that nature. They were usually from Mycroft who was trying to rile him.

"Well…no actually" He smiled ruefully, emphasising his wonderful cheekbones, and expressing a certain innocence that made John want to snog him right there and then. "I haven't even been attracted to anyone before"

"What about Irene? You seemed quite….comfortable with her"

"That made you jealous didn't it?"

John chuckled, he had really hoped that Sherlock had missed that. After all it was an emotion and Sherlock didn't tend to pick up on those as well as everything else.

Of course he hadn't.

"Yes. I was jealous. I think that's around the time that I had started to figure out just the way I felt about you_"_

Sherlock took John's other hand, so that now they were completely facing each other and stroked the back of his palm.

"That was work. I never really felt anything towards her."

"Never?"

"Maybe…she could have been a friend. Not like you. But someone to help, like Lestrade. We would probably still be in contact if she wasn't in America right now"

John's lips thinned. He had lied to Sherlock about that, Mycroft had told him about Irene's death but he had felt that it would have been best to hide that fact from Sherlock for fear that it would have hurt him.

As if Sherlock wouldn't have been able to tell he was lying. Even if he hadn't been the one that had helped her to escape death.

"Oh"

"What do you mean by that_?" _He demanded.

Well, of course he knew what John had meant but he had found that it made John feel a lot better if he left him to explain himself. Plus, this was something else that would have been deeply motivated human emotions and Sherlock was learning that others thoughts (those that had emotional ties) were sometimes unpredictable. Certainly John was right now, and his head was becoming fogged with other thoughts. Those thoughts that were very different to anything that he had ever thought about before. And they all involved he and John in different 'compromising' situations.

"Nothing" He said and began walking again. He still had a tight grip of Sherlock's left hand though, so he had to follow_. _

"What John?" His voice was soft, pleading.

"Just… I never thought that I would really use this word in connection with you" Though he had used almost the exact expression earlier when thinking, but there was no way that he would say that, even saying this he would feel that it would be condescending. "You're so innocent"

"What? How can I be 'innocent' I've seen hundreds of dead bodies I've seen all manners off-" He stopped. "Ah, you mean regarding sex. Well, yes those feelings area all completely new to me. But I wouldn't call it innocence. Not with what I was just thinking about" He smirked.

John grinned. "Still, I've never met anyone who hadn't done 'it' at your age. Then again, I've never met anyone quite like you"

This time is was Sherlock who instigated the kiss. He bent down and pressed his lips fiercely against John's. By this time they were a lot deeper into the woods. Though he was inexperienced at this, he learned quickly and John had muttered something vague about his fast improvement, then something unintelligible that led to him dropping soft kisses on Sherlock's cheekbone.

That's when they heard the twig snap.


	6. Interruption

"Well, well, well what do we have here?" came a disembodied voice, ever teasing. They both instantly recognised who had found them.

"Finally, boys. I always knew one day it would come to this"

They had split apart the moment that they heard the distinctive snap; Sherlock had placed himself in front of John, so that it would almost impossible to spot him from the direction the noise had come from. He was ready to save John from the oncoming attacker, even before they knew who it was.

John looked panicked; they had both though that no one would ever find them there, that they were safe. No one had followed them, Sherlock had made sure of that by taking him a very confusing route through the woods that would be almost impossible to follow, and anyway they would have heard someone before.

"Mycroft. What are you doing here?" Sherlock said in an extremely annoyed voice, the kind he would usually use whenever he had to speak to Anderson.

Mycroft had been in a meeting, probably plotting the 'unfortunate death' of a violent political leader, but he had deliberately pulled out. Judging by his the condition of his suit.

"When I saw that you two were together, I just had to come and interrupt…" His lips curled into a very snakelike smile.

"How did you know that?" exclaimed John, in both anger and disbelief. He would never forgive Mycroft for telling Moritay everything, and had tried to avoid him since. But he would sometimes phone him, it would make him feel closer to Sherlock. He did a lot of things like that, to make sure that the memory of Sherlock would always say fresh in his mind. He would never forget a minute they had spent together but he had lived in constant fear that one day those memories would begin to fade.

"He has us both fitted with trackers" Sherlock said calmly.

"What?" John was outraged now and he looked one step from attacking Mycroft, whose face was its usual serene mask, where he stood.

"He did mine years ago, while I was in hospital after being knocked unconscious. He had it inserted into my head". Sherlock gave Mycroft a look of a look of pure hatred, which brought to mind the phrase 'if looks could kill'' if that was the case Mycroft would have dropped dead a thousand times over by now.

"How does he know where I am though? I haven't even been in hospital since we met, and there's no way he could have…" Mycroft was still silent. Nothing seemed to be worthy of a response from him right now. He was usually a lot politer than this.

"The watch he gave you for your birthday" Sherlock said through gritted teeth. " I didn't think youwore it, I haven't seen you wear it before, at least. So I didn't think it was worth mentioning. When I saw you had it on today, I never thought he'd look. I have told him to destroy the system."

"Not worth mentioning? That your brother was planning to track me everywhere I went?" John had started to direct his anger at Sherlock now. "No noo, of course you wouldn't do that" he said in a heavily sarcastic tone.

"I would have, it just wasn't applicable at the time"

Before John could reply, Mycroft interrupted. "John, John. There is no need to worry; it's just my way of keeping you safe"

"Go away Mycroft_" _Sherlock took a step towards his brother, not in a threatening manner but as if to encourage Mycroft to move.

"But I'm having so much fun" Mycroft said, a note of laughter in his voice.

"Go"Sherlock almost whispered now, and to John's astonishment Mycroft began to walk away.

"Wait…wait. Mycroft?" John had appeared to be in deep thought, then said "If you can track him…then why didn't you know he was alive. He'd be moving"

"I didn't check his tracker for a month or two after he went into hiding. Then I was about to disable it-I had to dot his myself as no one else knew the passcode- and he was moving. So of course, after almost having a heart attack, I went to him"

"Then why didn't you tell me?" John said, his eyes flashing in anger.

"Because, for once, he respected my wishes" Sherlock said, turning back and cupping John's face in his hand, this calmed him a little. Sherlock turned to Mycroft.

"It took you longer than I expected actually." Sherlock's voice was still full of loathing _"_Another reason I'm smarter than you. I would have looked straight away"

"Sherlock, I don't have as much time as you. I had been-"

"Ruling the government while eating a pile of cream cakes, I know"

"No. Oh forget it." His phone made a buzzing noise and he checked it "As much as I have enjoyed this. I am needed_"_

"_Bye" _Sherlock almost hissed.

John was now taking of the watch and examining it "Where is it?"

"Inside the mechanism, even if a watchmaker looked at it it's likely that it would have been left totally undetected"

"Could I sell it?"

"I suppose, if you needed the money. Why did you start wearing it anyway? You said it looked tacky, despite its price"

"Erm" he pushed the hair on the back of his head, as he often did when he felt uncomfortable "It…well it sounds stupid really…It…"

"It made you feel closer to me." He stepped forward and wrapped John in his arms, then planted a kiss on top of his head. Strangely, all this love and affection thing was coming to him very easily now. It had been such a labyrinth of the unknown to him only a few short hours earlier.

"Yes, how did you guess that?"

"I just knew it…it wasn't the usual way. Not something I noticed. I just knew exactly what you were going to say. It wasn't a guess like all of the other times"

"Oh, Sherlock. I didn't think it possible but you're even more fantastic than I could have even imagined"

"I know"

John laughed. Nothing was ever going to stop Sherlock being so over-confident, he would still show off at every opportunity. He just needed to show more people his abilities in person, then they would all believe him again. No. They would _know_ that he wasn't a fake. Know that Moriaty wasn't a hired actor. Know that Richard Brookes was only a fictional character created by Moriaty to bring about his demise. They'd know that Moriaty was the criminal, and that he was, for want of a better word, crazy.

Before, people that didn't even know him actually like him. Or liked that he did at least, they admired him.

"While you still have that watch there, what time is it?"

"Look yourself_"_ Sherlock just stared at him, and made no move to look at his phone. John gave the usual sigh he did when doing something Sherlock wouldn't but looked anyway.

"6.45"

"Ah, so that means we have some time left then... Good thing that no one comes this far into the woods though."

"Yes, we've been here longer than I thought. Time left? Until what? Sherlock!" Before he had finished the question, Sherlock had started to nuzzle his neck, which tickled.

Sherlock stood, _I did something wrong ,_he thought. John had laughed at him, not in a mean way but it still seemed as if he hadn't been doing what he should _I thought I had this figured out. _ He looked down at John and pouted a little.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing. Nothing" he reiterated, to make sure that Sherlock wouldn't feel upset "Did that upset you?"

"You laughed at me"

"It tickled. But what I meant was, you don't usually get upset over anything."

"Exactly"

"What?"

"I never usually feel like this. I don't know if I like it. And it's your entire fault. No one else does this to me"

"Me? Oh. Wow"

"Yes, John. You've changed me. I'm more…human now 'normal'. Or at least when I'm with you. We went over this before"

"I know. I know, it just still comes as a surprise to me. You're kind of sensitive…."

Sherlockcombed his hand through John's hair, which was sticking up all over - resembling a hedgehog's spikes.

"Sherlock?" His voice was muffled, his head was against Sherlock's shoulder leaving his faced partially buried in Sherlock's huge coat. "Where are we going later_?"_

"Tonight." Sherlock lowered his head so that his chin was now resting on John's head.

"Okay. What are we doing tonight?"


	7. Promises

"Nothing too strenuous, just breaking into a government facility" Sherlock said nonchalantly, as if talking about going shopping (though of course he never did that, far too many idiots crowded in one place).

"What?" John spluttered. That almost made Sherlock want to laugh, after all he had done, John was worried about getting arrested for breaking into a little office.

"Relax, John. It's not like we haven't done it before"

"And it ended so well that time. They'd see us straight away. "

_Ah_, Sherlock thought to himself, _he isn't worried about prison at all. He's worried that someone who worked for Moriaty would see him_.r

"They won't. We won't be there for long enough"

"And how do you plan on getting in? What is it anyway?"

"They leave a window open at the back, the receptionist is very trusting."

"Fine. But you didn't answer the other question"

"Just the Office of European Exchanges."

"The what?"

"They hold all the records for those who have travelled to the rest of Europe"

"Why do we need those?"

"I need to confirm that Moriarty has definitely left the country"

"Wouldn't he have used a pseudonym?"

"Definitly. But I know all of those too, however I expect that he's travelling under the name of Richard Brookes"

"I swear if I ever get hold of him…"

"I'm never letting that man anywhere near you"

John was still in Sherlock's arms, but he pulled against these restraints so that he could look Sherlock in the eye. "Sherlock. I can protect myself"

Sherlock knew that, John was totally capable of looking after himself. He was a lot more capable of this perhaps, than a lot of other people Sherlock knew.

"I know"

"Then why..?"

"Because I love you"

At those words, John melted into Sherlock, knocking them both over.

"John!" Sherlock exclaimed, laughing.

"Oops. Sorry"

He was now laid with his head on Sherlock's chest. Sherlock found that this was extremely comfortable and he shifted so that he would still be able to keep his arms locked around John. He decided that this was his new favourite position.

They stayed like that for a while, completely silent. John had moved his head, so that his right ear could be placed directly over Sherlock's heart. Sherlock decided that John was doing this as an extra confirmation that he was really here. That he was really alive.

"John?"

"Yes?" he replied, not moving his head.

"Why was it today?"

John looked confused, then his eyes widened in understanding "I told you it took me a long time to come to terms with this, to actually understand how I felt. Then to be okay with it."

"Yes. But why today? You had done that at least 2 weeks ago" Sherlock hadn't know this at the sight of John two weeks ago, but he knew it from looking at John now.

"How do you know tha-. Never mind." He amended sensing that Sherlock was about to go into one of his long deductions. "I guess it was something Mrs Hudson said"

"What?"

"She told me that I need to get over you. She was rather harsher than usual, I suspect that's because I haven't been out of the house in weeks, I took compassionate leave, but that still barely covers the rent"

"But why did that make you-" Sherlock interrupted.

"I was about to explain that" John said a little irritated, then he softened his voice "And I realised that I would never be able to do that"

"What were you planning to do next then, if I hadn't turned up?"

"Nothing."

"Really?"

John was obviously hiding something.

"I wasn't planning on doing anything"

"It was something bad, something very dark, something that you want to conceal so badly that you've changed your body language so that I wouldn't be able to detect it. John, I think we need to make a promise to tell each other everything"

John moved from Sherlock's chest and turned so that he was facing him, propping his head up on his elbow.

"Well, that would work out well…I guess. I do need you to start telling me all of you plans, everything that you intend to do. Also everything you know-well that of relevance- as soon as you know it."

"Of course. Unless it would be better for you not to know those things" John was about to protest, but realised that Sherlock would never be able fully agree to this. He had now realised that Sherlock would do anything to protect him, no matter the cost. "But that includes everything from our pasts too, I have no problem with that…but it might be slightly more difficult for you"

"Yes. But there are many things I want to know about you, and this seems a fair deal. Though you have to understand…If there is something I don't want to talk about, I will come back to it. It's just I might need to prepare myself a little"

"So you're not going to tell me what you were planning to do?"

"Not yet"

"Hmph" Sherlock grumbled, he couldn't stand not knowing something. "Jooooooohnn" he protested.

"I can't"

Sherlock pouted.

"Don't look at me like that…"

"John, if you don't tell me I'll cry.." He said, his eyes already filling with tears. It came very easy too, he could probably have been a good actor if he didn't find that profession extremely tedious.

"Jeez Sherlock. Don't do that"

" Please?" Sherlock said, letting the tears roll down his face.

"Okay. I will if you stop it"

Sherlock immediately stopped crying and wiped his eyes, sitting up straight and pulling John with him.

"I know you're acting…but please don't do that again?"

He was stalling. "Fine" But he didn't go on.

"Yes John…" Sherlock prompted.

John's face was suddenly so full of grief that Sherlock pulled him back for a hug.

"John, John. What is it? Tell me. I can't bear seeing you like this, knowing it's all my fault." His voice was urgent. He felt that is he spoke fast enough, John would be feel better sooner.

"I was planning to join you" John whispered, his face was pressed into Sherlock's neck, his voice almost inaudible.

"I don't understand-you thought I was dead-how could you ever join me-. Oh. " This time, the tears that filled his eyes were real. This surprised him, he never cried for real, it was always an act to get what he wanted. _Why was he reacting in this way? _Yes, a normal person would feel like this, but not him. Not Sherlock Holmes. He didn't respond to anything, his emotions were impenetrable, if even existent. This was the same thing from before, John was affecting him in a way that no one else could.

His John, wanting to die just because he'd left him.

"John" He was crying properly now, not caring about how strange this reaction was to him. He hugged closer, then bent so he could bury his face in John's shoulder.

He had sensed that this time Sherlock's tears were real, but he hid his surprise at the face "Sherlock, it's okay. I don't think I would have even gone through with it. I don't think. I'm not that brave."

"But you thought of it. You were going to die, just because I wasn't there anymore"

"Well, yes. I couldn't bear it. I-I need you"

Sherlock raised his head so that his forehead was resting against John's.

"I'll never leave you again."

"Do you promise?" John said, now very close to tears himself.

"I promise, if the situation ever does arise again, I will find another way around it"

"Thank you" He reached over and wiped Sherlock's tears away with his thumb.

"Oh, John. I wish I hadn't done it now, that I had known, how you felt. That I hadn't made you go through all of that"

"Me too. But I'm almost glad, in a way. I would have never realised how I felt if you hadn't. I would have supressed it, maybe forever"

"I think I may have come to the conclusion about the way you felt, then evidently my own feelings, in time. It would have taken me a lot longer though, years probably"

"I'm sure you would have figured out before that" John smiled weakly, he always had such faith in Sherlock. Even when nobody else did.

"Not likely. I know my own mind. I've never said this before but thank you John"

"What for?" John looked profoundly confused.

"For all your comments, others always hide them, they say that my ability is weird. But not you, John. You're always complimentary, and I think that the encouragement even helps me to improve"

John blushed. "Well, maybe they should say nicer things about you."

Sherlock kissed him again. This time, the kiss was very soft, but still passionate. John's hands tangled in his hair, in an attempt to pull them closer together.


	8. Files

When Sherlock pulled away, John realised that it had gotten dark.

"Wow. Erm, how long have we been…?"

"It's 8.12, we'll have to go very soon"

"But.." John grumbled, evidently disappointed.

"Don't worry, we'll have a lot of time for this" then he planted a small kiss upon John's lips and stood up.

"You're good at that, you know. Especially for someone so inexperienced"

"Of course I am. It's just a simple pattern of movement and knowing the subjects favourite places."

"Did you just turn kissing into science?" He laughed, still looking slightly disoriented. He wasn't focusing fully, his mind obviously somewhere else.

"You can turn anything into science. At the beginning, I even had to experiment" he smirked.

John bit his lip and shook his head a little, smiling fondly at Sherlock.

"We'll go now. You're not so bad yourself, though I don't have much to compare it to." Sherlock added, grabbing John's hand and tugging.

"Mmmm hmmm" John murmured, his eyes still fixed on Sherlock's perfect Cupid 's bow lips, not looking where they were walking.

"John, this is going to need your full attention. I don't want you to get us caught, love"

John's eyes lost their glazed over look and he smiled at the affectionate name. "No. I'm fine. What made you call me that? Not that I don't like it."

"Isn't that what couples do? Give each other pet names? 'Love' is much better than 'cutiepie' or 'snugglepuss'" He made a face "-as Anderson once referred to Sally, obviously forgetting about his wife again"

"So…we're a couple now? And yes, I just didn't think that you were the type of person to do that." he beamed up at Sherlock.

"Well of course, John. We love each other, we've kissed." John's face broke into the widest grin Sherlock had seen "I just thought it would be nice" he said, sticking out his bottom lip.

"It's lovely, don't worry. Don't do that Sherlock, I'm having a hard time thinking straight already"

Sherlock quickened his pace, almost running now. "Whoa slow down a little" John had to run to keep up, his legs were much shorter than Sherlock's.

"The sooner we get this over with the sooner we can get back to kissing, or hugging. Which I enjoy almost as much"

They both began to run.

Soon they were back to the streets of London, it was almost exactly like before, when they had been running after a serial killer or gang of smugglers. But this time he could hold John's hand, without the excuse of being handcuffed together.

It didn't take them very long to get to the offices, and as Sherlock had said the window at the back was open wide, fortunately this time it was on the ground floor.

"I'll go in first John, just in case"

"Okay, wait there for me though"

"Of course"

Sherlock jumped over the low window ledge gracefully. As soon as he was in he turned and held out his hand so that he would be able to help John over the ledge.

"Thanks" John whispered as soon as he was over, keeping hold of Sherlock's hand.

"I need both my hands to work, love"

"Oh yes" John put both his hands in his pockets and looked around the small, dark office filled with filing cabinets. "Where do we start?"

"The one by the door, that should contain the 'Bs'

John was reaching towards the top drawer when Sherlock grabbed his arm. "No, John. Stop!"

It had been too dark to notice before, and he had been looking outside, then listening to see if the rest of the building was safe. The whole thing was alarmed.

But John had already curled his fingers around the handle of the drawer and Sherlock's attempt to yank his hand away had caused him to pull open the draw.

The screech of the alarm was ear splitting "Go John!" Sherlock shouted, his voice could only just be heard over the alarm's violent scream.

John hosted himself up and jumped out of the window.

"Sherlock" he yelled, but Sherlock was leaning over the filling cabinet, searching.

"Sherlock! Hurry up!" He was almost jumping up and down in his urgency for Sherlock to get out.

Already, John could hear a siren in the distance.

"It's fine, I have it" Sherlock bellowed back, almost to the window. From the other end of the building, they could hear the screech of the brakes of police cars, which contrasted oddly with the alarms unending high-pitched yell.

As Sherlock scrambled over the window, now much led elegant in his haste, they hear the door to the front of the building open.

His coat was stuck on something, it had caught in the cabinet nearest the window, who's bottom draw had not be shut properly by whoever left it last. "John help" he yelled, his voice now muffled as he had the file clenched between his teeth so he could use both hands to pull his coat. He was now sat on the window ledge.

They could hear voices from inside the building, but they were still at the front of the facility, supposedly checking the rooms in order.

John leaned over the windowsill, he could just lean in enough to get closer to the coats trap then Sherlock, he yanked the coat and Sherlock almost fell off of the window ledge with the force.

He jumped down and they ran off again together . Sherlock reached for John's arm and pulled him along hoping that it would help him to go faster.

They ran through the streets, John running blindly after Sherlock with no idea to where they were going. He stopped so abruptly and John almost ran into him.

"In here John" he said indicating a small door that John would never have noticed if he had been just walking past.

"What is this?"

"Just somewhere Mycroft bought a while ago, I took the keys from him while he was gloating about finding us" he stooped and unlocked the door.

"Why does he have this place?" John asked. As he Sherlock turned the light on, he gasped. "Oh my God, this place is like the TARDIS"

The room was enormous, John couldn't figure out how it had all been hidden behind that tiny door. There were chaise- lounges, the carpets and wallpaper were obviously top quality, and there were even chandeliers.

"Mycroft's taste is very decadent; he has this place in case anyone needs to go into hiding. So I suppose it would need to be suitable for those guests too"

John immediately grasped who Mycroft's 'guests' might be, judging by his expression.

"Then why didn't he let you use it earlier?"

"I'm not important enough" Sherlock wasn't self-pitying when he said this, as most people in the situation. He just said it in his normal matter-of-fact tone. "I can't believe that. They don't even have any sign of the alarm system on the outside of the building. The foyer isn't alarmed either. "

"So you wouldn't have known. We're fine. There weren't even any cameras, after the incident with Mycroft I always check."

"Why are the police even so quick to get to offices like that anyway? Maybe if they didn't spend time on those things they wouldn't all be such idiots, or have to call me for the simplest cases"

"It's a government building, in fact I'm surprised it wasn't more heavily guarded"

Sherlock looked slightly sheepish "It usually is, I just had a few of the guards removed."

"What?"

"I got some people to blackmail them. It was easy."

"How?"

"I noticed there secret affairs, their gambling and drug addictions. Then I had one of my contacts bribe them that I would let all the information out to those they were hiding the problems from if they didn't disappear tonight"

"Brilliant. You would make a fantastic criminal you know"

"I know. I just chose the side of the angels" he said, quoting Moriarty.

"What are you talking about?" John asked, still gazing around the vast room Oh yeah that thing Moriarty said to you on the roof." He yawned.

"You're tired. Do you want to go up to the bedroom, take your pick. There are three. "

"O-okay," he stifled another yawn. He had only just noticed the doors different diverting form the room. He could just see through each of them, one was a kitchen and another a bathroom. He walked through the closest of the remaining three doors .

He threw himself down on the lush four poster bed then shouted out to Sherlock who was waiting just outside the door.

"Yes? Do you need something?" He was worrying about John, maybe it wasn't good to do this to him. He should have told him to go home. What would Mrs Hudson say when he didn't come home? Maybe she had even guessed his original plan for the day…No of course not, she would have done something.

"Could you...sleep here tonight?"

Sherlock looked startled for a second "What? Do you mean-" then his face cleared in understanding, even before John started speaking.

"No Sherlock. God no. Not _now_"

"I knew that John" he rolled his eyes. He laid down next to on the bed and John snuggled into him.


	9. Morning

For the first time since he had left, actually it would have been for a while before that too… he never slept while on a case, Sherlock had slept for the full night. Admittedly he had fallen asleep at around 1am, then awoken at 7am (which was less than the 8 hours John had always told him he needed) but it still very good. He had decided that he would start following John's advice and begin to sleep and eat at regular intervals.

Moriarty's file confirmed that he -'Richard Brook'- was now in Sweden, and that he had been travelling with not the journalist woman as Sherlock had expected but a man called Sebastian Moran, so when John woke up they were going to go find out exactly who he was. Then that would lead them to Moriarty, and now John was with Sherlock would be able to use John's credit card to buy train or plane tickets, and he would never be traced – he would reimburse John as soon as this was over.

John didn't wake up until around 10am, giving Sherlock enough time to plan what he would do (with subsequent plots for every eventually of how the day may go) but it didn't take him too long and he spent the rest of the time watching John sleep.

It was surprisingly interesting, most of the time John's face was very peaceful, but once his face had contorted as if he had been in an extreme pain. This seemed so real that Sherlock was about to wake him up, fearing it was something else cause by John's PTSD, but John just mumbled Sherlock's name then is face went back to a more peaceful state. Though now, his expression seemed to be angry and upset.

Sherlock had never really watched anyone sleep before, apart from Mycroft when they were younger but that had been part of an experiment, and he had been holding lit matches. Watching John like this made him more relaxed too.

As soon as he got up John declared he was 'starving' and was currently going through the cupboard in the apartment as the fridge was completely empty.

"That's it. I'm going out"

"John I have to stay here, rush hours only just over there will be people everywhere.."

"I know. You stay here. I'll go find a shop, it shouldn't take me long"

"There's one on the corner, be quick. Oh, and don't worry Mycroft has guards around" Sherlock said pulling John down for a quick kiss as he passed the sofa.

"Don't worry I will. Did you call him? I didn't think you wanted his help."

"I don't we would have been fine without them. He has cameras in here; I'll take them down while you're out"

"Okay. I should have known he'd be watching us again. Bye" he said then walked out of the door.

Sherlock immediately got up and began to take down the three cameras that Mycroft had placed in the living room; one of them also had a mic. Sherlock guessed that opening the door had set of some signal and that Mycroft, or one of his drones, was now watching. "Mycroft" Sherlock said to the empty air, looking straight down the camera.

Five minutes later Mycroft's plumish voice echoed around the apartment "You called, dear brother"

"Why didn't you tell me John had taken it this hard?" he almost growled, staring into the camera.

"It might put you back, put you in danger. And you know I always look after your wellbeing."

"You knew he might do something drastic. You even had more cameras installed"

"Yes, I was checking on him from time to time, it was easy to set up surveillance of 221B. You see I was afraid that if he did something unexpected that could affect you detrimentally whenever you found out"

"You need to tell me everything. How was he?"

"He rapidly fell into a deep depression. He slept a lot, didn't eat, never went out. He got fired from the surgery"

Sherlock had started to move around the apartment now taking down the rest of the cameras.

"Can you leave those Sherlock? It takes time to put those back in." Sherlock carried on now in the kitchen, ignoring him. Neither of them mentioned the way that Sherlock had got in. Mycroft knew of his brothers pickpocketing habits.

"He said that he was on compassionate leave? If you had mentioned it. I could have got back to him earlier. "

"He was for a while, but he took too long, according to the boss. I would have but you told me not to call you"

"I didn't mean regarding everything"

Mycroft sighed. "You're impossible Sherlock. I have to go"

"See you" Sherlock said, mocking Mycroft and pulled out the last camera, the one in the bedroom. (thankfully Mycroft had left the bathroom private).

Sherlock had just laid back down when John burst through the door, slightly out of breath.

"What is it, why were you running?"

"No…money card…wouldn't work. Left…stuff there"

"Even at the till?"

"Yes. "

"Here, go and get whatever it was" Sherlock stood up and handed him a bunch of notes.

"I won't need that much" he said handing all the money back apart from one £5 note and racing back out of the door.

Sherlock sat back on the sofa and turned on the television, which was concealed behind a wooden panel that could be opened with a remote. He flicked through the channels muttering "Dull" or "Boring" to everyone, occasionally pausing long enough to correct someone's grammar or, as many of the channels were now on breakfast TV, tell someone who their father was.

John was soon back, holding (rather predictably) a jar of jam and a loaf of bread. He walked into the kitchen and Sherlock followed "John could you do something for me?" he sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

"Why are you asking? You never usually ask you just order" he said opening the loaf and popping 4 slices into the toaster.

"Not good?"

"Yes, Sherlock. It's good, very good." And he leaned across the breakfast and rewarded Sherlock with a kiss, he then turned back around to boil the kettle. "What is it?"

"Could you go and get me my violin? And your laptop?"

"Why can't you use your phone?"

"It might be traced. I've been using Molly's"

"Molly? She _knew?_" John narrowed his eyes.

"What other 'helpful mortician' did you think that I was talking about?"

"Oh. Why didn't she say anything to me?"

"I told her not to. She's very nice to me"

"Still. She knew how I was feeling. She's supposed to be my friend."

"I asked her explicitly not to say anything. She found it hard. Didn't you notice her visits to you declined?"

"Yes. I thought I was just boring her." John's toast pooped up and he began spreading the jam on it.

If Molly had kept visiting John, she too would have been able to tell Sherlock how badly John had been doing.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?" Sherlock leaned over and took half a slice of one of John's pieces of toast. John looked at him in surprise, but chose to avoid questioning him.

"You do know why she's nice to you right?"

"She wants to be friends with me."

"Not only friends" he said picking up his own slice of toast. "She fancies you Sherlock"

"Oh. Why?"

"You know for someone so incredibly intelligent you miss the most obvious things, love" he squeezed Sherlock's free hand, he had just eaten the last of the toast. "Really? Have you looked at yourself in a mirror?"

"Yes. But I don't see your point."

"As I said yesterday, you're beautiful"

The blood rushed up to Sherlock's face, _he was blushing._ Strange. Nothing ever made him blush. _What was John doing to him?_

"And so are you, love". Sherlock smiled up at John. "Sit down" he patted the stool next to him.

John looked so much better today, the lines of worry had gone from his face and his eyes were no held that expression of deep emotional torture.


	10. Together

**AN:This will be the last chapter, then there will be an epilogue****. Thank you to anyone who has read and kept up with this story :)**

* * *

"Will you go then?"

"Oh yes, sorry Sherlock. I'll go after I've drank this" he poured out his cup of tea. "Do you want one?" he added the milk he had bought (the teabags had already been in the cupboard) and stirred in the sugar.

"No. I wish I could go back" Sherlock neglected to tell John about the cameras as taking them down would only mean that John's absence was prolonged. Then he changed his mind, remembering his promise "Mycroft put up cameras there"

John had never heard Sherlock wish for anything before, but then again he always got what he wanted. " For goodness sakes. That man is ridiculous and I know, love. It won't be long now. You've made astounding progress" John walked towards the sofa with his cup, Sherlock following him again.

"You're right" Sherlock complimented himself, a few seconds later he added "Thanks," .They sat in silence for a while as John drank and Sherlock thought, their hands entwined and resting on the seat between them.

"Bye Sherlock" John said getting up to leave, but before he could even take three steps towards the door Sherlock reached up and pulled John down again for a kiss.

"Sherlock" he mumbled against Sherlock's lips "I…have…to go"

"Please be quick" Sherlock pleaded, pulling away. "I need the information. I also want to carry on with this… Oh could you get me some of your clothes too,love?" Sherlock hadn't forgotten this before, he had figured out that John would be more willing if he asked for the things separately.

"Why my clothes?"

"If I wore my own I wouldn't be as recognisable, I'll need them for tonight"

"Okay, I think I have something that will fit you. Bye." John walked out of the door looking slightly dazed from the kiss, leaving Sherlock completely alone. He was already beginning to miss his John.

He had nothing to do, he couldn't find Tolviska without going to Newcastle and he couldn't get any further with Moriarty until John came back.

He was bored.

He turned on the TV. Boring. The programs he had flicked through before were over and now there were DIY and Antiques shows. Which in Sherlock's opinion, were both completely pointless.

He found some books in the back of the bedroom but he didn't find them interesting enough. They were mostly crime novels, and the writers dragged them out far too long. The detectives were far too stupid. It was as if they didn't even look at the criminals or the body sites.

He took a shower (Mycroft had actually stocked this part of the house with sufficient shower gels, shampoos and conditioners) trying to make the whole process last a lot longer in an effort to keep away the boredom for as long as he could. It didn't work.

For the rest of the time he needed to wait he paced the apartment thinking about John. He should have asked for his gun too.

"I'm back" John announced unnecessarily. He was carrying the violin and laptop cases with a small sports bag, presumably containing clothes so he wouldn't need to leave again.

Sherlock snatched the laptop from him. "Thanks" Sherlock said, while waiting for it to load, remembering how John liked it when he said thank you.

John dumped the violin and on the coffee table, he himself had changed while he been out, but not into his clothes, he was wearing Sherlock's purple shirt, which hung loosely, too long for him and some of his own black lent over the back of the sofa to watch. "I changed the password pass let me-"

But Sherlock was already in. "Why did I even try?" he laughed.

"You should really come up with something less obvious. Favourite colours are so easy to figure out. Why are you wearing my clothes?" He asked he looking fondly at John then turned to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"When did I tell you my favourite colour?" he ignored the Sherlock's question.

"You didn't. I could tell"

"Little conceited aren't we?" John teased.

"I was right"

John's password was the combined colours of Sherlock's eyes.

"Why then?" Sherlock demanded.

"I thought seen as you were wearing my clothes, I might as well. "

Sherlock laughed at John's childish ways. "You do look rather lovely in those"

By this time the laptop was fully loaded and Sherlock was doing a very basic Google search of Sebastian Moran.

Idiot. He had Facebook.

Sherlock got into his account, it wasn't even set to private. And fortunately for Sherlock, some inconsiderate 'friend' of Moran's had put "When are you back from Sweden Sebby?"She hadn't gotten a reply from 'Sebby' but this was far more than enough for Sherlock to know he had found the right guy.

Sherlock had photos now, this would be too easy. He now knew where Moran lived, he and John were going to see Moran's parents later. He told John of his plan and John agreed to go after nightfall.

In the meantime, Sherlock needed entertainment.

"Do something John. I'm bored"

"I'm not a performing monkey, Sherlock. Watch something on TV"

"Boring"

"Read?"

"Nothing to read"

"There are stacks of books in the bedroom"

"Boring"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Come here" Sherlock moved the laptop away and pulled John towards him.

* * *

"We should have slept a little, considering we have to do almost everything late at night" said John. They were outside, walking towards the address of Moran's parents (luckily it was very close), their hands interlinked.

"I enjoyed how we actually spent that time a lot more that I would have sleeping."

"Me too, love. You can't imagine how much. But still we need at least 8 hours.." John said, his inner doctor obviously kicking in.

Sherlock cut him off. He was wearing a stripy jumper of John's and some jeans that had been a present but John had never worn as they were far too long. "Fine. We'll sleep late then?"

"Yes, okay. I like you in those, you look so cuddly"

"They smell like you" he replied bluntly

"Thanks." John said sarcastically.

"No, they smell wonderful" Sherlock said truthfully, not intending it as a compliment. This made John's cheeks turn faintly pink.

They walked on in a comfortable silence, occasionally turning their heads to gaze adoringly at their partner.

"Here we are. Down there" whispered Sherlock, stopping suddenly and pointing. He wouldn't usually have commented on where they were going- he would have just expected John to follow him- but he felt this way would make John more at ease.

John hadn't expected the place to look like this; it was an alleyway which he would never have spotted if he was alone.

He followed Sherlock through the dark alley, almost blind. There were no more lamp posts to light there way now.

They came up to a large house, and Sherlock walked up and knocked on the door boldly.

There was a brief scuffling sound by door and it opened "Ah is Sebby here?" Sherlock asked confidently, scratching his ear.

"No he's in Sweden" the woman who had come to the door was about 50, and wore a very tight lipped expression.

"Oh of course, with Dianna, in Stockholm" Dianna had been listed as his girlfriend on the social networking site.

"He's in Halmstad and they broke up. I'm sorry who are you?" said the flustered looking woman.

John continued to stay silent, watching Sherlock

"He's home tomorrow right?" Sherlock persisted.

"No he and his friend are going on to Germany next Friday, then they're coming back next month. How do you know Sebby?"

"Fine. Bye." Sherlock said briefly and rushed off down the garden, pulling John with him.

"Wait-who are-?" the woman shouted after them, but they were already out of the gate.

"That was fantastic Sherlock. I didn't think it would work with everyone"

"Oh it does, and it's very simple too. People are so stupid" Sherlock was going to get Moran as soon as they came back, but if he wasn't back at the time his mother had said, he would book plane tickets in John's name (he had acquired a fake passport a long time ago), and with a small disguise they go unnoticed on their way to go and find the two men.

"As you say." Said John, slightly downhearted.

"You're different." Sherlock traced circles on the back of John's hands consolingly.

"How? I'm no where near as smart as you and you say that everyone who isn't is dumb"

He wound his arm around John's waist. "You're so much better. My intellect isn't always a gift, I may notice things that no one else would ever have seen but I often miss the simplest the things. You see, I have no idea about emotions or the way I should feel"

"How do you feel Sherlock?"

"I don't want to do anything, go anywhere without you."

John blushed, sending Sherlock's heart rate up.

"I feel exactly the same way. I love you" John replied.

"I love you too".

"The last few months….they were the worst of my life, being without you. Worse even than the time I spent in Afghanistan ."

"I'm sorry. I hate myself for doing this." Sherlock had never felt like that before, he always felt proud of what he had done. He also never cared how his emotions affected others.

"You know, Sherlock…." he murmured, stopping in the street and standing on his tip toes for a kiss.

"What?" asked Sherlock pulling away to look at John properly.

"I still can't believe you're really here. "


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

Sherlock looked out over the beautiful, white villas towards the tranquil waves. It was still pretty early, so everything was quite. For the first time in three months he had awoken without John beside him.

Panicked, he called his fiancée who assured him that he's just gone out to clear his mind. John had been becoming increasingly nervous over the last few days, though he assured Sherlock it was nothing to do with him, John was just worried about speaking in front of people, especially as they'd written their own vows.

Not many people were invited, there was Mrs Hudson, Lestarde and Mycroft (who'd very recently gotten together),Harry (who was celebrating the 3 month anniversary of her sobriety), Molly and her new boyfriend Tom –John's closest friend from the war, John's parents and Sherlock's mother. Of course, there was also Angelo- who was the one that had suggested his home town as the venue for the wedding, they would have the reception at Angelo's family's restaurant there.

The ceremony was to start at 3pm, and they were to be married on the shore so there wasn't much to prepare. John was back at 9.30am, and the couple spent the spare few hours laughing and talking. By 1.30pm, when John had insisted that they started to get ready, Sherlock had managed to calm him down.

John went to Lestrade's room to run over his look over the vows again and check that the speech he and Mycroft had prepared would be appropriate. Though Sherlock knew that this would be a fruitless endeavour as Mycroft would never let anyone see that speech.

Sherlock changed into his suit, John had coerced him into wearing a tux, so they'd match. Sherlock had on a white shirt (which was to his usual tightness) and they each had small white flowers for buttonholes. John had told him earlier that they'd meet at the beach and walk to the makeshift altar, a white wire archway, together. Sherlock decided to go over his own vows in his head, though of course he had memorised them straight away, then while he waited he let his mind wonder back to his proposal.

It had been just after Moriarty's trial, wherein which he had gotten a life sentence- this time the jury were all under protection (which, Sherlock knew he had already gotten down to 15 years). He and John had been sat on the sofa, John's legs draped over Sherlock's lap as they kissed. Sherlock had pulled away slightly, his lips still only an inch from John's. "John we should get married." Then he resumed planting small kisses along John's collarbone.

"What?" John spluttered, sitting up straight and turning towards his boyfriend.

"Married, John" he shuffled over and began to nuzzle John's neck.

John pulled away again, putting his hands on either side of Sherlock's face to look at him intently while holding him in place.

"But isn't it a little early? We've only been together properly for two months" John exclaimed.

"7 weeks 5, days 15 hours" he took his phone from his pocket and looked at the time " and 37 minutes, actually." Sherlock looked down at John, confused and upset "I thought you loved me"

"Of course I do Sherlock, more than anything. I just didn't expect this so soon, if at all"

"Isn't it normally what couples do when they love each other to 'cement their bond in front of family and friends'?" he queried innocently, knowing John would find it endearing (or, in other words, more persuasive), quoting a magazine he had read while waiting for John to finish at the surgery. He put his hands on top of John's on either side of his face, attempting to pull them away.

John didn't budge. "I just didn't think you were the type of person….When I was younger and I imagined being married I never thought it would be like this."

"I never thought I'd be married at all, but John, I want you. I want to make sure you're mine forever, now we're both safe, doesn't it seem like the perfect time?"

John's face cleared, and his eyes filled with tears "Yes Sherlock, yes of course" and they engaged in the most passionate kiss they had ever shared, though it had a lot of competition, this had been Sherlock's favourite.

Sherlock had lingered in the memory a lot longer than he had expected. It was now 2.25pm, and the walk to the beach would take at least 30 minutes (John had told him he wasn't allowed to run as he's wrinkle his suit). And John would kill him if he was late.

When he arrived at the long, stunning beach he saw John was already there, pacing by a small alcove. Sherlock strode over to him and took his hand, giving it a small kiss "Don't worry love. When we get there just look at me, pretend they aren't there." John's heart rate seemed to calm a little. Sherlock was getting good at this. "You look wonderful" he announced, whenever he complimented John he stated it as a fact, which always made John blush a little.

"You look beautiful and dashing. As always "John replied. Sherlock beamed, they were now approaching the small group of guests seated on white wicker chairs in front of the makeshift altar. Sherlock felt John's pulse rate again, and whispered in his ear "Calm down. They're not here. It's only us, don't look at them if that helps" John raised his gaze from the now muttering guests, all commenting on the way they looked, and looked into Sherlock's blue-green-grey eyes.

Mycroft had arranged the ceremony, and all of the legal stuff, he had also paid for everything including everyone's flights, which John had tried to refuse. But Mycroft had become very insistent, telling them it was a wedding present but also to apologise for not telling either of them about how the other felt- Mycroft had since admitted form the moment he saw them together he knew Sherlock had been suppressing lover for John. Likewise John was hiding his love of Sherlock. So he had been elated when he had finally heard the 'happy announcement'.

John's breathing rate increased as soon as they began walking past everyone and Sherlock squeezed his hand, again reminding him to forget about everything other than themselves. At the altar, they turned to face each other and clasped both hands together. The registrar (actually an old friend of John's) began the ceremony, but Sherlock blocked her out, only looking at John. Judging by the slightly glazed look in John's eyes, he was doing the same.

Then it was time for the vows, Sherlock was to go first. "John, you're the first person that truly accepted me for who I am, you weren't jealous or scared of my intellect, like most. You're the one person that can surprise me, you're kind, brave and loyal. You changed me from a cold hearted, selfish, scheming man into someone who can love. Before you, I never even looked at anyone in that way, I didn't think I was capable of that emotion-or any other, for that matter. I love you with so much power that sometimes I can't even think, it fills me up and overwhelms me. I know how much you hate it, but I will always protect you, I will take any measures necessary to make sure you're safe. I don't think I could survive even a day without you. I don't deserve someone as good, trusting and loving as you."

Sherlock had not been prepared for John's reaction when he said this, though he should have known (again John was surprising him. _How did he always do that?_)or his own in response to John's expression when he spoke. Tears were streaming down John's face now, and he looked straight into Sherlock's eyes, his own full of wonder. At this look, Sherlock's own eyes had filled with tears. John was just so happy to be here, to finally have Sherlock, Sherlock couldn't comprehend (despite the hours he'd spent trying to it figure out, to the point of infuriation) how John could love him back. How this wonderful man could love someone so manipulative, rude and cold? He didn't deserve John.

From what Sherlock could hear- he refused to look away from John, everyone watching was crying, even Lestrade though he, Angelo and Tom were trying to hide it.

"John, now your vows to Sherlock" prompted the registrar as John still seemed completely dazed.

John swallowed and attempted to stop crying, pulled a crumpled sheet out of his pocket and checked it. He knew it off by heart, he'd edited it that many times, but he wanted this to be perfect. "Sherlock, before I met you I was broken, my life was bland and hollow. Then when we met, well solving crimes has been the most fun I've had in years" he chuckled lightly. "It took me a long time to realise how I felt, why I could never keep a girlfriend, it's because I needed you. You were the one that fixed me, helped me to get rid of the nightmares. When I thought you were gone-" his voice broke and he took a deep breath, he had forgiven Sherlock for the pain he had caused him, but he would never forget. "I couldn't cope. You're the only one I'll ever need, the only one I'll ever want. I feel like the luckiest man in the world to have you" John had added on the last sentence on the spur of the moment, so filled with love and elation and finally being married to this brilliant man.

Sherlock's eyes were brimming with tears, a solitary tear ran down his well- defined cheekbones. He had only ever seen Sherlock cry once before and that moment evoked feelings in John that were too painful to remember. John didn't know what he had done to deserve someone like Sherlock, someone who knew how his mind worked so well, who was so completely fantastic.

"I now pronounce you partners" proclaimed the registrar and everyone clapped as Sherlock and John fell into a long-awaited and salty kiss.

* * *

**AN: This killed me to write, sorry it took longer than usual! Special thank you to Harjyot, who gave me the idea for the epilogue, and told me to write this up in the first place. Thanks to TruffleHead, Nurse Kate, Cartlin, shygirl9683, who reviewed, as well as anyone who added this to their alerts or favourites. **


	12. Note

_Note: I have written a prequel to this story, in John's Point of View. I thought I would leave this message so that if you would like, you can read that too as I believe that it adds more to this story. Thank you for reading and I thought that those that have this story on their alerts should know. If not, sorry for bothering you and completely ignore this. _


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